Charlotte.com

I got an email Wednesday from a reader I didn't know. He has two tickets to the Carolina-New Orleans game Sunday, and wanted to offer them to a child (and parent or adult) who otherwise wouldn't be able to go.

Could I help find such a child?

I told him that two Carolina Panthers I know have foundations, one established, one new. The players work hands-on with the people they serve. I've watched them. They'd probably know somebody.

I also recommended a charity with which I'm familiar that does great work. The group could identify a child who would love to go.

The reader chose the latter. I gave a name and phone number and he thanked me. No. I thank you.

If you do what I do for a living, the Panthers-Saints game can be consuming. But the Panthers have played other consuming games and likely will some more.

The season, not football season, is singular. And if I do it right, if I'm sufficiently aware and appreciative, it can lift me.

The reader could have sold the tickets for much more than he paid for them. The tickets are his and he can do with them what he wants. He wants to offer them to a young boy or girl he's never met.

I praised him in a return email. He said he couldn't take credit, that it was his wife's idea.

So I praised her.

Although the act is small, that's what the season is, a series of acts, many of them small.

Bring the unused coat to the clothing drive. Volunteer. Take some of the money you were going to spend on gifts and give it to an organization that needs it more. Smile. Acknowledge the man ringing the bell in front of Harris-Teeter and stuff a couple dollars into the pot in front of him. Slow down.

The most desirable destination in Charlotte Sunday will be Bank of America Stadium. Allow a kid to be part of it.

I heard from a few readers Sunday who are convinced that NFL officials favored the New York Jets in their 10-point loss to the Carolina Panthers.

I was surprised; I know that conspiracy theorists abound. But the idea that officials go into a game with the intent of favoring the big-market team, the team with the established stars or the team that's playing your team is absurd.

You think replay officials wake up next to a horse head if they turn down an offer they can't refuse?

The NFL is the most scrutinized of U.S. sports. Teams play no more than once a week. We watch. We notice. We scrutinize. If there were a pattern of bias or corruption, we would know.

Speaking of patterns, why do officials who have dedicated their waking hours to undermining the Panthers continue to throw flags against Carolina and then pick them up?

Look. For some of us life is easier and more fair if we decide that officals are out to get our team and that employers, the government and the media are out to get us.

I get it. I grew up a fan of the Minnesota Vikings. I didn't think the Vikes got their share of the calls.

I've covered 10 Super Bowls. The best of them were in San Diego and New Orleans.

I'm not talking about the games. I'm talking about the quality of the event. San Diego and New Orleans have the facilities and the experience, the hotels, restaurants, conference rooms and bars, to accommodate fans, officials, media and everybody else who shows up.

Atlanta was overmatched by the Super Bowl, and cold.

Jacksonville was overmatched, and Jacksonville.

Phoenix wasn't bad, although Phoenix had little to do with the game. Many of us stayed downtown. But the festivities were in Scottsdale and the game was in Glendale.

I checked into a Miami hotel for my first Super bowl, told the woman behind the desk I wanted to run and asked her which direction I should go.

"Don't," she said.

Miami offered an ideal climate and decent amentities, although the game was played so far away we could have flown there. The Dolphins might be in the same league as the Chargers and Saints. But when it comes to hosting an event I wouldn't put Miami in the same league as San Diego and New Orleans.

Detroit was good. Cool to hold a game that attracts glamour and stars in a beer and a shot town.

But the Super Bowl is supposed to be a reward for sponsors and for the miniscule number of fans that are able to find a ticket. Cold isn't a reward.

New York City is not a reward. I like New York. I've had numerous assignments there and three times visited on vacation. But it's a stupid site for a Super Bowl. The game won't have nearly the impact there it does anywhere else. And the elements in an outdoor stadium could skew the result.

I loved watching the snow game in Philadelphia Sunday. I grew up playing football in the snow. Snow football is entertaining. But we didn't play the Super Bowl in the snow. I don't want snow to help determine the best team in the league. I don't want to see elite quarterbacks hampered by a wet slippery field and I don't want to see white stuff between them and their receivers.

It's a nice idea, rewarding cities that build stadiums with the premier event in U.S. Sports. But it doesn't work.

I'm if the NFL, I put the Super Bowl in San Diego in even years and New Orleans in odd ones. Maybe work Miami and perhaps Phoenix into the rotation -- every fifth year Miami gets it and every sixth year Phoenix does.

I'm fine to eliminate them, too. The Super Bowl is a reward for teams and it ought to be a reward for everybody else, too.

Stephen Curry runs onto the court at Time Warner Cable Arena and a group of Davidson fans sitting nearby cheers wildly. On the bench Golden State assistant coach Lindsey Hunter begins to clap as if he's one of them and Curry laughs and begins to dance.

Welcome home.

Curry, who starred at Charlotte Christian and Davidson, runs to midcourt to talk to Charlotte assistant coach Bob Beyer. Then he returns to the Golden State side, stands beneath the basket and shoots hooks -- left handed, left handed, left handed, right handed. He shoots with one hand from the free throw line, left hand and right hand. He shoots with exaggerated arc and no arc.

Loose now, he floats to the right side of the basket, inches inside the three-point line, and makes four straight. He loses an imaginary defender with a quick dribble between his legs and shoots. I never see him make more than four straight.

Then Curry slips into one of those zones where what he puts up goes in. He shoots from 22 feet the way the rest of the world shoots layups. There's no discernable effort. It so simple: Ball, hands, up, in, next.

If you're a fan of the game, what do you do?

You sit as close to the court as you can get and watch one of the great shooters in NBA history shoot baskets.